Winter Born
by Min Daae
Summary: Not any kind of fluffy. "But Haleth was proud, and unwilling to be guided or ruled..."


"No," she said.

He stared at her, not quite comprehending. "No?"

"No," she said again. Her heavy, dark hair was slipping down, framing her face, freckles obscured behind grime.

"You are refusing?" _You are refusing me? _He was incredulous. Caranthir was not accustomed to generosity, and even less accustomed to having it rebuffed. "I have offered you more than a quarter of what I hold, to settle in, for next to nothing."

"No," she said, a third time, and he could almost see her plant her feet. "I will not accept charity. Not even from you, prince." He stared at her, and felt the first small prickle of anger.

"I will not offer you more," he said, working his right hand with some difficulty out of a fist. "Your home was destroyed. Where will you go, if not here?"

"My people will find somewhere. We are a hardy folk, little as you may care to believe it. We will survive."

"You are no longer so young as you were, and winter is coming on. Does that not concern you?"

Her gaze snapped, and she met his eyes, somehow managing to appear as though she was not craning her neck to do so. "It is impolite to comment on a lady's age, Prince Caranthir. I hope you will remember that well. True, I am not of the Eldar, but I have many years in me yet, and I will die with a sword in my hand."

"I don't doubt it," he said, though perhaps he did, a little, quietly. "But you will need a place of your own to defend-"

"No," she said, for the fourth time and slightly more sharply. "I will not accept aid. We will manage on our own or not at all. If nothing else, we at least have our pride."

"Foolish pride," he snapped, "pride that will lead to your death," and she turned away, jerking the leather greaves over her arms with a sharpness that belied the calmness of her voice.

"So be it."

He caught her arm to bring her around, to force her to face him, all the lines of his body humming with tension. "I cannot allow it. I _will _not. Not such a foolish waste of lives." He felt the muscles in her arm contract within his grip, pressing against his fingers.

"The only life you care for is mine, and you cannot coax me to believe otherwise." To his surprise, she didn't tell him to let go. Caranthir tightened his grip, almost in retaliation, though unsure if her silence was defiance or acceptance.

"Why should that matter? If it is, I would all the same extend protection, my protection, to your people as well. They have proven themselves in battle."

"And for me," she said, but her eyes were not warm or soft or giving, but hard like frozen earth. "I was never made to tolerate chains of any kind. And will you or nil you, what you propose would only be another chain, and heavier around my neck for dragging the hope of impossible things with it."

"Nothing is impossible," he said, passionately. "Anything can be done, with enough will, with enough perseverance and strength-"

"And you call me proud," she said quietly, and mild as the chiding was it still fell like a slap in his face, and anger started a slow burn in his belly. If he willed, he could force her into anything. If enough of her folk died…

But he was ashamed, even of himself, for thinking it.

"Show me what is not possible," he said, fiercely, instead, pulling resentment into defiance. "Show me anything that is not possible." He didn't like the way she looked at him, and then she did look away. It was the first time she had.

"You would not like my answer to that, prince. At any rate, I will not take anything that I have not gained by my own hands, my own toil. And so I will not take your offer."

If there was one thing Caranthir had always hated, it would be to feel helpless. His fingers bit into the muscle of her arm. "I would offer you anything." He hated his own words, sounding too much like begging, and yet could not keep them from emerging. "I am not handing down scraps in pity, Haleth, you of all people must know I am not capable of that."

"Let me go."

"I'm asking you. _Begging _you, if you will. Perhaps – at least wait until the winter is through. Traveling would be safer."

"And you would have longer to bind me to you." She tried to jerk away, but his grip was stronger than hers. "No. I will not stay – it is clear to me now that I have already stayed too long.

"Damn you," he hissed, and didn't let go. "At least-" But he did not know what he wanted to ask for, and fell silent, simply breathing. She looked back at him, and her voice was suddenly low with warning.

"Will you make an enemy of a friend?"

"Better an enemy than a stranger," he snapped without thinking, which was more than he wanted to say to anyone. She did not soften.

"You cannot make me remain here, prince. My life is never meant to be lived in a cage."

"I wouldn't keep you in a cage," he said, fiercely, but let her go, angrily, stepping back so that he did not simply pull her body to his, crush her against him in an embrace, and insist that she stay with his lips and tongue used in a different manner. "What cage have I threatened to give you? What have I done so wrong, or failed to offer you, that you feel the need to engage in this – coquetry?"

He could see the flush rise like a wave in her cheeks. "Do not insult me with this, prince. You are already wedded, just as I am; to death, and she is a jealous mistress."

For a moment, he didn't even understand. For another moment, he hated her. "You are a damn fool," he hissed. "I offer you everything and you ride away with nothing. Your host will freeze to death, and dying you will wish-"

"For nothing more than I have," she said, and Caranthir wanted very much, terribly, to strike her, or else to seize her and breathe in the musk and leather smell of her as familiar as his own skin.

He was silent, instead, and only looked at her. He could offer to escort her to the boundaries of his lands – it would be within reason. He could offer her an escort, or new weapons to replace those lost in the destruction of their home, or the seeds to begin farms wherever they ended.

He said nothing.

"If you will excuse me, prince. I think it is time that I left," she said, and bowed. Her hair slipped the rest of the way out of the disheveled knot at the back of her neck and fell down, thick and heavy and black. She hardly seemed to notice. The stitched gash down her neck began to leak blood, and he watched it trickle down into the bandage on her shoulder.

"If you are not gone without a trace in two days time," he heard himself say, coldly, "Those still squatting on my land will die."

They locked eyes, and there was nothing to see in either gaze. "I'm pleased we understand each other," Haleth said softly, and turned smartly, and left.

He stood alone, unmoving, for a very long time.


End file.
